Finally over
by susiequeen300
Summary: When the war is finally over, and Sabrina thinks on what is left. Short one-shot.


When it was finally over, when the last shots were fired and the death tolls were tallied up on both sides and the victors stopped cheering after realizing they had lost so much more than they had initially thought and it was all _finally_ _over_ , she couldn't move.

Well, she could; she just tried not to.

She simply dropped everything that was in her hands and sat on the grass. If anyone or anything (like the Everafters running past her to enjoy their newfound freedom from the barrier) tried to move her, there would be no telling how badly harmed that person or thing would emerge from their encounter with her. People were sprinting, _flying_ past her, and all she could do was pray none of them hit her. Surely none of them would if she really concentrated her thoughts.

Or not think at all. That was another option.

Thoughts lead to death counts, and death counts lead to tears, and tears led to eventual moving, and moving was something she definitely could not manage right now, lest her fragile equilibrium shatter into a million pieces. She couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't _breath_.

Just for now, she told herself. You have three minutes to collect yourself. You can do that. You deserve it, anyway; you led an entire freaking army across a battlefield, destroyed a power-hungry Everafter, buried the dead…buried….no. That was why she wasn't thinking – so thoughts like that wouldn't eat her from the inside out.

Plenty of people had tried to stir her from her spot in the past minutes: Daphne had tugged at her hair, and Granny Relda had attempted to call her back to reality, before coming to an understanding that she simply needed peace. And time. She wasn't asking a lot. Lord knew others had asked far more from her than she was asking for in the past several weeks.

She was seriously considering extending the length of her dazed state from three minutes to forever when she heard more footsteps behind her. "Don't even try to get me to move, stinkpot," she called to the figure behind her.

"How'd you know it was me?" She felt the ground beside her give as he flopped down next to her, mimicking her sitting position: legs stretched out, arms propped up on either side.

"Smelled you from a mile away. You reek big time."

"As much as the Trickster King prides himself on avoiding cleanliness, I'm pretty sure you're picking up your own B.O. You've been sweating like a pig," She could hear the devilish smirk even as he said it, his Adam's apple bob in his throat. She didn't tell him how she knew it was him because of the way the air around her collected and sent chills up her body. They weren't kids anymore. Kids didn't go to a war that shouldn't have been theirs in the first place. At least, that's what she told herself. She finally moved her head just enough to glance down at her arm. Goosebumps.

"You're one to talk."

"Don't be ridiculous! Royalty never sweats."

"I'm sure you're the exception, Puck."

He turned to grin at her when he caught the look on her face. He let his smirk fall. It's about time, she thought. Then she wanted to take her thought back. She never wanted him to stop smiling. For anyone to stop smiling. It was too much. Too much thinking, too much breathing, too much trying, too much, too much, too much-

She whipped her head and faced him, her hair brushing his nose in the process. She didn't notice the way he inhaled slightly at the touch of her hair. "What are we supposed to do now? It's over. What are we supposed to, to-" She inhaled shakily the sob that was threatening to spill out of her. It was too much.

Her hand was enveloped by his own, warm and smooth and familiar. She felt her eyes fall shut at his touch. Listened as he breathed out slowly and said, "I guess we pick up where we left off. Or start again. Do something new."

At his words she let her body rotate from its frozen stance towards him and look at his face. He had head still facing forward, but even through his profile she could still see the same lost look she felt plastered on her own face.

Like she wasn't alone.

Somehow, it was more reassuring than anything else she saw or heard that entire day.

She turned forward again and let the smallest of smiles grow as the Trickster King, her sole annoyance and comfort, held her hand. He didn't try to make her budge from her spot. He just sat with her and watched the sun move from the sky into the trees. Finally over.

 **A/N: A small Puckabrina drabble to end the year. I've wanted to try writing on this site for a long time and thought I'd start small.**

 **UPDATE: Just wanted thank everyone who's given me so much positive feedback (much love to quillandspindle for inspiring me to edit this and make it much better than before!) I'm definitely drawing a blank on future writing prompts, so if anyone has a particular idea you'd like to see, feel free to PM me or leave a review about it. Hopefully, if I find spare time again, I'll be able to write another story:)**


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